


Zugunruhe

by howdoyourespond



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Desk Sex, Director Phil Coulson, Drinking to Cope, F/M, Fluff and Smut, I Tried, May Feels, Melinda May Is a Good Bro, Phil Needs a Hug, Post-Season/Series 03, Whiskey & Scotch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:41:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdoyourespond/pseuds/howdoyourespond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson's last day as director of S.H.I.E.L.D</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zugunruhe

**Author's Note:**

> Zugunruhe is a German compound word consisting of Zug (move, migration) and Unruhe (anxiety, restlessness). In ethology it describes the agitated state of migratory animals during the migration period. Zugunruhe occurs during the dark period only.
> 
>  
> 
> ♥ ✌ ♥ ✌ Many hugs and kisses to the amazing lola381pce for her support, encouragement and suggestions. There are no word that could express my gratitude.♥ ✌ ♥ ✌

 

He tore off another wad of paper and wrapped it around the walkie-talkie wristwatch with meticulous care. The director’s office used to be a display of S.H.I.E.L.D history, a shamble of old spy gear, military equipment and antique memorabilia. Coulson liked old items, they all had a story and an adventure to tell. Tonight, the large room was almost empty except for the huge pile of cardboard boxes standing next to the oak executive desk. His former desk.

He grabbed the Edwardian magnifying glass, another treasure from his collection. He gently stroked the handle and felt the delicate texture of ivory and silver plate under his fingers. It had belonged to Peggy Carter. The patina was magnificent. He smelt the frame. There was an elegance to things back then. In an absurd present and an uncertain future, he found an undeniable comfort in these fragments from the past.

A streak of evening sun peeped through the window and illuminated the shelf where the Boeing C-17 model that May gave him for his birthday stood, captured in mid-flight at an angle the specialist would be proud of. The Bus. He stared at it for a while. It reminded him of a time that seemed so long ago. A time when everything seemed so much simpler. 

A feminine voice interrupted his thoughts. “The Bus.” 

He turned around to see Melinda May leaning against the door frame, holding a bottle of scotch and a couple of glasses.

“How long have you been there?”

“Long enough.” She walked into the office unable to hide a smirk of satisfaction. Setting the two glasses on the desk, Melinda poured two large doses of Balvenie and handed one to Phil. “I miss the Bus too.”

Phil tilted his glass toward her and nodded before taking a large sip. He felt the warmth of the alcohol making its way down his throat. “The first sip is always the best.”

Melinda sat on the desk. “The second is just as good, if you ask me.”

She made him smile. It was going to be a long night. 

The Playground was unusually quiet. Everything had already changed, but here they were together in his office, one last time. Their eyes turned from each other, to take in the large empty room before them. They fell into a comfortable silence and just stayed there, side by side, sipping their drinks slowly. 

Phil knew she was trying to make him feel better. He was touched she had cared enough to take the time to come. He felt better now Melinda was here. He always felt better when Melinda was here.

Melinda refilled his glass without a word or a second thought. Had this been an ordinary day, they would have discussed a mission or she would have helped him with planning a strategy. Tonight, however, none of these considerations seemed to matter.

“You were the one that put the shaving cream on Fitz’s face, weren't you?”

The amused scowl crossing her face gave him the answer.

“That's what I thought.”

They both laughed genuinely. Phil’s heart seemed to quicken at the sound of her laughter. He remembered a time when Melinda was the queen of pranks. This part of her was still there somewhere, buried deep inside, even after everything they’ve been through.

“And when you wrapped Garrett in cellophane... In the Academy hall!”

She raised her nose, looking proud. “Well, he was drunk. That was easy.” 

“He was pretty pissed off!”

“He was a jerk. He deserved it.” She made a pause and added, “Part of his training program.”

Phil raised his glass. “You’re going to be an amazing instructor, May!”

They were so caught up in their own bubble, they hadn't even noticed that the room was getting dark. Melinda got up and switched on the light. Phil couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was standing there, under the neon glow, her long dark hair spilling down her back, wearing this simple grey tank top tucked into fitted black jeans. 

A wave of desire swept through him. He blamed it on the whisky, clenched his jaw and took another sip as she came back over to him.

“You were an amazing director.”

Phil snorted and looked down. He made so many mistakes and had so many regrets. On this day of reckoning, he felt each decision he took and each orders he gave hammering in his head as constant reminder of his failures. He wished things had turned out differently.

He suddenly felt Melinda’s hand on his shoulder. He was surprised by her gesture but kept staring at his glass, unable to find the strength to look at her.

“Phil, you were great. You started from scratch. You never gave up.” She paused and then continued. “You saved S.H.I.E.L.D, you stubborn bastard.” She spoke in a whisper, but with such an intensity that he was almost willing to believe her.

He looked up and her eyes caught his. He felt vulnerable and he hated it. He offered his hand and without taking her eyes from him, she took it. The relief he felt as his fingers closed over hers instinctively brought him closer and, suddenly, they were hugging. 

He held her as tightly as he could as she tucked her face into the curve of his neck. The warmth of her body made his senses tingle with both lust and relief. He pressed his nose against her hair, inhaling the vanilla scent. He needed her more than he could ever admit. He loved how her small body fitted in his arms perfectly as she was always meant to be there. He loved the way her soft breath felt against his neck. 

“It's almost a relief to be back on the field, you know,” He mumbled in her hair. “All I want right now is to find Skye.”

“Daisy”

“Daisy!” He would never get used to it. 

She pulled away from their embrace and a soft smile stretched onto her face. “Of course, you do. You stupid, stubborn bastard!”

They were just inches apart. He was so grateful to have her in his life. Especially tonight of all nights, in his last minutes as director. He leaned over and gently kissed her forehead. “Thank you.” He hoped she understood how much he meant it.

He looked at her lips then into her eyes, and then his gaze traveled down to her slightly parted lips once more. They were so close he could almost taste them. 

He promised himself so long ago not give in to this desperate urge to kiss her. He had dreamed about those lips so many times. He had played in his head this moment over and over, wondering how it would feel, where it would happen and how she would react. He had kissed her so many times, in so many places in his forbidden fantasies. 

Kissing Melinda was such a dream that the idea itself had become unreal. 

He felt overwhelmed by his needs all too long denied but he knew what was happening. It wouldn’t be appropriate. They had been drinking. It was wrong on so many levels. They had boundaries. He needed to respect that. He respected her too much.

He closed his eyes and took a step back. Melinda put her half empty glass on the desk. 

“I guess I should get some sleep.”

He nodded. “Thank you, Melinda.” Her face was blank and unreadable but he immediately regretted this moment of confusion.

“No worries.”

He watched her leave the office and stood motionless as he listened to the sound of her footsteps slowly fading away.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! (✿◠‿◠)


End file.
